Hearts and Minds:  Veritas
by Catwings1026
Summary: An original character vignette featuring the Joe's chaplain, Veritas.


**HEARTS AND MINDS: Veritas**

by Catwings 1026

**Disclaimer**: G.I. Joe and all associated characters and concepts are property of Hasbro Inc. I'm just one of a large family of fans who likes telling family stories – no profit needed, no profit earned.

**Author's Note:** This is my first OC - original character - story. After reading an article about the men and women serving as armed service chaplains, I decided that the Joes needed one... and created Veritas. She has a longer story, but this is my first complete Veritas piece... just a peek into her mind and heart, since I very much enjoyed Max Brooks's _Hearts and Minds _G.I. Joe mini-series. I wish he'd written more.

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><p>Army Family and Morale, Welfare and Recreation, the G9 division of the Army's Installation Management Command, is a comprehensive network of quality support and leisure services that enhances the lives of Soldiers, Civilians, Families, military retirees and other eligible participants.<p>

Family and MWR's vision is to be the driving force for programs and services that provide the foundation for the Army's home by:

- Increasing Soldier and Family resiliency

- Restoring balance

- Enhancing recruitment, readiness and retention for Soldiers and Families

Family and MWR's mission is to support Army Force Generation by enabling all Commanders, Region Directors, and installations to provide Familiy and MWR programs and services that result in a quality of life to Soldiers and Families commensurate with their sacrifice and service.

from _Army Family and MWR Vision and Mission_

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><p>Whatever your spiritual gifting, you can find meaningful expression of it in the chaplaincy. Whatever your personality, there is room for you. Whatever your educational and ministerial circumstances, serving as a chaplain can bring greater depth, develop leadership skills, and broaden your understanding about what ministry is all about. The opportunities to make a difference in people's lives are endless!<p>

from _Becoming a Chaplain In the United States Army Reserve, _prepared by the Chaplains of the 96th Regional Support Command, United States Army Reserve, Fort Douglas, Salt Lake City, UT

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><p>It came as something of a surprise to find a dead man sitting on my patio that late spring afternoon, stroking my elderly Siamese cat and looking not much different than the boy he'd been the last time I'd seen him. Being that I was only just returning home from my son Richard's funeral, the first thought that came to mind was the hope that he didn't ask when Richie would be home, and if he could catch a ride to football practice. My second thought was to wonder if his parents knew where he was.<p>

Con and Richie were more like brothers than Richie and his younger brother Robbie ever could be. Growing up a scant dozen houses apart, they were in and out of one another's bedrooms, plotting and planning, dreaming the dreams of all young boys, from the time they could run down the street unaccompanied by an adult. Con was in our living room before I was awake every Saturday morning. He slept over so much that his clothing was irreversibly intermingled with Richie's. I kept his photo on the mantle between Richie's and Robbie's school pictures and Robbie's Lego models. Though they were the same age, Con was like an older brother to Richie - the older brother he'd always wanted. It was to Con's house that Richie retreated when his father walked out on our family. It was against Con that Richie battled in virtually every sport known to man. And it was with Con, and their shared dream of being soldiers, that Richie sheltered in the wake of Robbie's death.

The year after graduating high school, Con was on the fast track to success in the Army, and Richie had enlisted in the Marines. Two years after that, he was deployed to Afghanistan. One year ago, as his third tour of duty drew to a close, he was killed by an IED on the road to Herat. And that was when Conrad turned up on my doorstep, though he was supposed to be dead himself, embraced me like the good adopted son he was, and told me that his name was Duke now - and that he knew of another family that needed me, if I was willing.

That was all I needed to hear.

I spent my working life as the Director of Family Programs for Fort Leonard Wood - Army Family and Morale, Welfare, and Recreation Department. I was also, because of my status as deacon for Little St. George Episcopal Church, assistant to the chaplain. On base or at home, caring for the lost and tending to those in need was what I did best - so it shouldn't be a surprise to anyone, least of all to me, that Conrad Hauser sought me out when his unit needed something of both - a chaplain and an MWR officer. It was, I told him, so VERY like the Army to neglect both simultaneously until the need was at crisis level. He had the good grace not to contradict.

And so I came to Fort Baxter, to the Army unit that traded my life in the world for a new name and a new family to care for. I felt not unlike Peter Pan's Wendy - suddenly mother to many strangers, called to nurture and tend the Lost Boys of Neverland. It's an analogy I've grown to like... for we are, all of us, consigned voluntarily to the Neverland of Fort Baxter, or wherever we will call our staging ground. It is a place which exists in its own time, apart from the world beyond.

And it is full to bursting of lost boys... and lost girls, though not quite so many... not in the Peter Pan sense, not that they will never grow up, but in that they have all lost themselves, lost the boys they were. They are men who were once boys with families loving or dysfunctional, with homes they will never again go back to, with pasts full of stories and tears and laughter, with siblings or best friends or sweethearts or yearnings unrequited. All they have now is their memories - and some try hard not to remember.

What they all need, what this community of fellow soldiers gives them, is a family and a home in the here-and-now, with all that home and family brings, for good or for ill. And because they are family, they find - often to their surprise - that they have not left the world behind quite so much as they may think.

The laughter and camaraderie, the gentle joking, the teasing - this is expected, welcomed. But beneath the superficial comradeship, beneath the firmer friendships, the roots of this family-of-choice run strong and deep. They give part of their hearts away all unknowing, and worry for one another - sometimes ache with that worry in ways deeper than they thought they would ever feel again. They pray for the safe return of those gone far away, and celebrate when the time comes for homecoming. They also mourn, in many and various ways, in the inevitable times of grief that shake this family of unrelated individuals to the core. Soldiers are wounded. Soldiers die. They know this as well as anybody. It is in the nature of the life they have chosen.

And, because no family is peaceful all the time, no matter how much love or loyalty binds it (just as no dysfunctional family, however twisted, can be consistently horrific), there will be squabbles, and sometimes outright brawls - sides taken, alliances made, lines drawn. Tempers flare, then ebb. In the aftermath, there will be fences to mend, forgiveness to dispense, advice to seek. Where there are families, there will always be a need for mediators, for neutral parties, for listening ears and friendly shoulders.

And that is why this team needs me.

To help keep their family strong.

To help keep their family together.

To play mother-surrogate to these lost boys.

To shepherd the souls of those who seek a flock.

To be accepting friend and nonthreatening mentor to those who wander but are not lost.

I am not a soldier - not a warrior in the sense that they know so well. But I know how to fight to keep a family together.

I am Veritas.

I am G.I. Joe.


End file.
